


Loose Feathers

by StarGoddess



Series: Angel 'Verse [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Deleted Scenes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Relationship, F/M, Goa'uld, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Major Original Character(s), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Violence, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Original Character-centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Secrets, Spies & Secret Agents, Tags May Change, Threats of Violence, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3164351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarGoddess/pseuds/StarGoddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A compilation of deleted and extended scenes from Angelus Mortis.  Stuff I decided not to include in the original story for whatever reason.  Contains spoilers for Angelus Mortis obviously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I took a long vacation from writing over the holidays and to get myself back into the story, I decided to clean up and publish some of the stuff I didn't include the first time around. There's no rhyme or reason to these scenes and I'll be adding to this section sporadically.  
> I hope you enjoy reading this!  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set directly after the first chapter in Angelus Mortis. It features a little more of Jack and Sam. I decided not to include it partly because I felt it gave a bit too much away about the OFC. But mostly because I felt Sam was OOC here. I didn't want to include something about one of my all time favorite characters if I couldn't get it right.

“I’d offer to make coffee or something,” Sam gestured helplessly to the mostly empty dining room, “But this was supposed to be our last night in the house and…”

“There’s not much left in your kitchen,” D set the kitchen chair back in place by the small round table, “Coffee is unnecessary, but thank you for the offer.” 

“Says you,” Jack looked out the window briefly, “It’s the middle of the night.” 

“0146, sir,” D responded automatically, then dropped her gaze to study the floor in front of Jack’s feet, “My apologies, General.  I could remain here in the kitchen if you and your wife wanted to go back to sleep.” 

“It’s too late,” Jack sighed, “I’m already awake now.  Besides, I’m not entirely sure I could get back to sleep with an assassin sitting at the kitchen table waiting for me.” 

“I could wait somewhere else, sir,” D offered quietly, “If that would make you more comfortable.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Jack sat down in one of the chairs, gesturing for Sam to do the same.   

“Yes, sir,” D said evenly, her posture straightening even though she kept her head tipped down.

“What’s with all the ‘sirs’?” Jack raised an eyebrow, “I thought we were getting along…making friends…that sort of thing.” 

“I agreed to truth and trust, sir,” D explained calmly. 

“Okay,” Jack drew out the word, “And?” 

“I belong to you now, sir,” D lifted her head to meet Jack’s confused stare. 

“What does that mean?” Jack questioned, “You _belong_ to me?” 

“As I said, sir,” D dropped her eyes down to stare at the table in front of him, “You asked me to trust you, sir.” 

“Yes, I did,” Jack looked over to Sam curiously, “But I didn’t mean…” 

“It’s conditioning,” Sam spoke quietly, “Isn’t it?” 

“Do you want me to answer that, General?” D asked steadily. 

“Yes,” Jack nodded, “I think I need a bit more of an explanation before I understand exactly what I just got myself into.” 

“Colonel Carter is correct, sir,” D flicked her eyes to Sam and looked to Jack before she continued, “The people who created me wanted to ensure my total compliance so they programmed me from a very young age.  They conditioned me to respond in a very precise manner to a singular authority – a master.  I cannot disobey an order from my master and I cannot harm my master in any manner.  However, my previous masters soon discovered that their orders had to be as specific as possible or I would interpret them as I wished.  When they realized this, they also programmed absolute commands.  Specific words that when spoken by my master, I will obey without thinking.  Once I accepted you as my new master, I was yours to do with as you pleased.  I will no longer follow commands from anyone else, unless directly ordered by you to do so.  I will provide you with a list of my absolute commands at your earliest convenience, sir.” 

Jack frowned slightly and looked down to the glass of water in front of him.  He sighed heavily and looked over to Sam. 

“Is there any beer left in the fridge?” Jack wondered. 

“There are two, sir,” D answered before Sam could, “I could retrieve them for you, if you want.” 

“No,” Jack insisted firmly as he stood, “You just…stay there.  I’ll get them.” 

“Yes, sir,” D ducked her head. 

“Sam?” Jack tilted his chin towards the fridge. 

“Yeah,” Sam nodded and stood to follow him. 

Jack walked over to the refrigerator and yanked it open, unsurprised to find two bottles of beer still in the door.  He grabbed both of them, handing one to Sam as he shut the door.  He twisted the cap off, tossing it onto the counter as he took a long swallow of beer.  He leaned back against the counter and looked out to the room where D was standing in exactly the same position. 

“Hey, Sam?” Jack whispered quietly. 

“Yeah, Jack?” Sam replied softly. 

“Did a dangerous assassin just imprint on me like a baby duckling?” Jack scrunched up his forehead. 

“I think so,” Sam nodded, “Yes.” 

“Is it possible I’m still asleep in bed,” Jack wondered, “and this is all some sort of weird dream because of the peppers you insisted we needed on the pizza?” 

“I don’t think so, no,” Sam bit back a smile, “But I could pinch you, if you wanted to make sure.” 

“How is this my life?” Jack directed the question to the ceiling. 

“You could always call the Mountain, sir,” Sam set her unopened beer back on the counter next to Jack, “The _Daedalus_ is in orbit, General Landry could have SFs here in minutes.” 

“Excuse me, sir,” D’s voice was just loud enough to be heard from the other room, “I feel I should point out, my senses are over-developed.  I can hear every word you’re saying from here.  If you decide to call in security forces, you should order me to disarm completely first.  And you should probably order me to comply with the arrest.  Otherwise I’m likely to react violently to being taken into custody.” 

“No one’s calling anyone yet,” Jack pushed off the counter, “But maybe it is a good idea if you disarm.” 

“Is that an order, sir?” D tilted her head to the side as Jack came back into the dining room. 

“You can’t tell?” Jack asked curiously. 

“The way you phrased it leaves it open to interpretation, sir,” D’s gaze moved over Jack’s shoulder to watch Sam coming up behind him, “If you want me to disarm, you going to have to make it an order.” 

“What happened to trusting me?” Jack narrowed his eyes at the young woman. 

“It seems I was unclear, General,” D’s eyes darkened to a [stormy gray](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dM8t9aorMxA/T0_ksvJtSpI/AAAAAAAAAmM/dV1IA6kD62M/s320/black+-+Copy.jpg), “If I had not decided to trust you, to accept you as my new master, you and your pretty wife would already be dead and I would be long gone.  If you want me to relinquish my weapons, _sir_ , you will have to give me a direct order or use one of my commands.” 

“That’s not exactly very _trusting_ of you,” Jack questioned evenly, “Is it, now?” 

The dangerous smile spread across D’s face and her eyes darkened even further to an[ intense black](http://www.youknowit.com/img/products/dolly-black-big-eyes-contact-lenses.jpg). 

“I am the _Angelus Mortis_ ,” D’s raspy voice was steady as she smiled up at Jack, “I am death to those who see my face.   I am vengeance to those who would betray my _Dominus_.  I am destruction to those who create evil.  I am order to those who would cause chaos.  I am an angel with a blade in my hand and blood-soaked wings.  I am a weapon, a tool, a chameleon that can blend into the shadows,” D took a step forward a laid a hand on Jack’s chest, leaning up on her toes to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, “I could have you kneeling before me, _begging_ me for mercy, for release.  I could etch my name into your skin and have you pleading for me to do it again when I finish,” D stepped back and dropped her hand, tilting her head down to look up at him through her lashes, “I could kneel before you and let you take me in any manner you wished.  I could let you mark me, bruise me, cut me and I would enjoy every second of it,” D stepped gracefully to the side, pressing a lingering kiss to Sam’s mouth before she held Jack’s stare with a smirk, “I could bring pleasure to your wife over and over while you watched.  Or you could join us and I could pleasure you both for hours, days, without tiring.” 

D’s expression hardened and she took another step to the side, kicking the back of Sam’s knee and sending the other woman crumpling to the ground.  She grabbed a handful of Sam’s hair in one hand and drew a small curved knife from behind her back with the other, pressing the sharp edge of the blade against the rapid pulse in Sam’s neck. 

“I could slit your wife’s throat open before you could blink, _Jack_ ,” D continued coolly, “And have the very same blade buried in your heart before you could move.  I could hold you both for weeks, torturing you in every manner you could possibly imagine, and several you couldn’t possibly imagine.  I could simply make the two of you disappear, like you never existed on this planet.  I am Azrael, the Angel of Death, and I hold the power of life and death in my hands.  My submission is a _privilege_ – a gift meant to be cherished and used – and the depth of my trust should never be questioned if you wish to keep it.” 

“Let Sam go _NOW_ ,” Jack snapped, “Unharmed.” 

“Yes, sir,” D released Sam instantly. 

D stepped back as Jack helped Sam to her feet quickly, slipping the knife back into its hiding spot behind her back. 

“Put _all_ of your weapons on the table immediately,” Jack ordered harshly, “And step away from them.” 

“Yes, sir,” D inclined her head as she moved over to the table. 

“I’m fine, Jack,” Sam insisted quickly, “My knees might bruise a little, but I’m okay.”    

“You sure?” Jack ran his fingers over Sam’s neck gently. 

“Really,” Sam nodded, “If she wanted to hurt me, she would have.” 

“Believe me,” Jack’s irate glare shifted back to D as she laid another knife of the table, “I know.” 

“Jack,” Sam drew his attention back gently, “She did it on purpose.” 

Jack frowned slightly as D came back over to stand in front of him with her head tipped down. 

“Did you?” Jack questioned, carefully restraining his anger. 

“Yes, sir,” D replied quietly. 

“Why?” Jack asked evenly, “Remember that you also promised me truth.” 

“For two reasons, sir,” D answered calmly, “First, it was a mild demonstration of my abilities.  A way to convey some of my minor skills to you without causing undue harm to anyone.  I understood there would be consequences to my actions before I made the decision to act.  I will accept any punishment you deem necessary for my behavior towards Colonel Carter and yourself.” 

“And the second reason?” Jack’s jaw tightened. 

“You hadn’t given me any orders, sir,” a thread of uncertainty leaked through D’s tone, “Every order given to me by my master reinforces the bond.  It’s part of the conditioning.  The only reason I was able to disobey your termination order is because I haven’t received anything other than electronically written orders in almost a year.  You giving me a direct order was a necessary step in cutting ties to my old _Dominus_.  I…” D faltered as she looked up to meet Jack’s eyes, “…I don’t want to go back, sir.  I forced you into a situation where you would have little choice in the matter.  I will apologize, if you wish, sir.” 

Jack took a deep breath and scrubbed his empty hand down his face. 

“I’m too old for this shit,” Jack mumbled. 

“You could always try to retire again, Jack,” Sam patted his shoulder, “The President might actually let you this time.” 

“Actually,” D cleared her throat nervously, “It’s unlikely the current President will allow General O’Neill to retire, at least until his term is up in another two years.  With the current political climate and the power shifts going on worldwide, the probability of the General being allowed to retire fully within the next ten years is extremely slim.  That’s the main reason the two of you were allowed to marry despite regulations.” 

Jack turned to scowl at Sam when she smothered a laugh. 

“You’re not helping,” Jack complained, “It’s not funny.”  

“Hey,” Sam protested, “It’s not even two in the morning and I’ve already been drugged, tied up, kissed by a woman I’ve never met, and assaulted.  I think laughter is one of the better responses I could have.” 

“I need coffee,” Jack took a short pull from his beer, “I am not caffeinated enough to deal with this right now.” 

“There’s a two liter of Pepsi on the bottom shelf of Colonel Carter’s refrigerator,” D looked between Jack and Sam curiously, “with a little less than a third left in the bottle.  I could pour you a glass if you’d like, sir.” 

“When did you check out Sam’s fridge?” Jack asked cautiously. 

“About an hour after the two of you went to sleep, sir,” D answered easily, “I’ve been outside the house since 1600.  I sedated both of you as soon as I came in and spent some time going through the house looking for any surveillance equipment or hidden weapons.  By the way sir, the light in the entryway needs to be replaced.” 

“Of course it does,” Jack deadpanned, “Anything else I should know?” 

“About the house, sir?” D tilted her head to the side, “There’s a loose tile in the master bathroom, near the shower.  The faucet in the kitchen is beginning to rust and should be replaced within the next six months. I found a dollar and forty-two cents worth of change in the living room furniture.  It’s on the table next to the couch, by the lamp.  Also, the security system sucks.  It took me less than a minute to disable.” 

This time, Sam couldn’t hold back the amused giggles that burst from her mouth.  Jack opened his mouth, then closed it again without saying anything.  He repeated the opening and closing motion a second time before lifting the beer to his mouth again to finish it off. 

“I think maybe we should start again from the beginning,” Jack held the empty bottle loosely between his fingers, “Let’s go sit down in the living room, away from the,” Jack glanced at the table, “ _for crying out loud_ , how did you even hide that many knives on you?” 

“I-” D started. 

“No, wait,” Jack held up his empty hand, “Don’t answer that.  I don’t really want to know.” 

“Yes, sir,” D inclined her head, “I’d like to point out, General, if you’re trying to get me away from things that can be used as weapons, I killed a man with a lamp in Hamburg.  And a woman in Monaco with a couch cushion.  And a man in Detroit with a leg from a wooden table remarkably similar to the coffee table in the living room.  And-” 

“Please stop,” Jack insisted, “Just…stop.” 

“Yes, sir,” D replied quickly. 

Sam pressed her lips together firmly, trying to hold back the smile as Jack sighed wearily. 

“No more violence in this house,” Jack commanded as he gestured towards the living room, “Go make yourself comfortable in one of the chairs and just…don’t touch anything…other than the chair…and the floor.  Is that a specific enough order for you?” 

“You didn’t tell me how long I was to sit in the chair,” D smiled innocently, “Sir.” 

“Until I tell you otherwise,” Jack rolled his eyes, “Go.  Now.  Before I change my mind about those strapping, young men with the big guns and the handcuffs.” 

“Yes, sir,” D inclined her head and left the room. 

“And no eavesdropping,” Jack called after her. 

“I’m going to get dressed,” Sam smiled and moved over to kiss Jack’s cheek, “I’ll run out to get some coffee and something for breakfast from the store.” 

“You’re going to leave me alone with her?” Jack protested. 

“You’ll be fine,” Sam grinned over her shoulder as she left, “Deep breaths, Jack.  Deep, calming breaths.” 

“Calming breaths, my ass,” Jack grumbled. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the original ending I considered for the whole "Caldwell as a Goa'uld thing." I decided that not trusting Elizabeth with the entirety of the plan would have been OOC for D, so I rewrote the end of this chapter.

“Stun, Ronon,” D called after him.  She shook her head with a fond smile, then turned back to Elizabeth with a neutral expression. 

“Ask,” D inclined her head. 

“How long?” Elizabeth questioned. 

“Suspected or confirmed, ma’am?” D inquired. 

“Both,” Elizabeth’s jaw tightened. 

“Since he refused to press charges of insubordination against me following the incident with the retrovirus, ma’am,” D answered calmly, “and since Dr. McKay discovered the fail-safes had been disabled.  Only a handful of people have that level of access within the City’s systems.  After that, it was simply a process of elimination.” 

“You knew it wasn’t Kavanagh when I went to speak with him the second time,” Elizabeth said carefully. 

“Yes, ma’am,” D replied, “That’s why I agreed to let you speak to him on your own.” 

“What happened to ‘us’?” Elizabeth inquired. 

“It was safer this way, ma’am,” D answered smoothly. 

“Why?” Elizabeth asked softly. 

“Because you would’ve insisted on doing things the difficult way,” D kept her gaze firmly on Elizabeth’s shoes, “You would’ve put yourself in harm’s way to get those codes.  Doing it this way ensured his attention would remain solely on me.  Making him think he was in charge, that he was the most important person in the room, was the easiest way to manipulate him.  I’ll apologize for not telling you sooner, if you wish, ma’am.” 

“You wouldn’t mean it,” Elizabeth sighed. 

“No, ma’am,” D agreed, “but I’d do it anyway.” 

“I am… unbelievably angry with you right now, D,” Elizabeth shook her head. 

“Yes, ma’am,” D responded weakly, sinking gracefully down to her knees. 

“No,” Elizabeth blanched, “Get up. Right now.” 

“Ma’am?” D questioned warily. 

Elizabeth took three large steps forward, putting a hand on either side of D’s face and pulled her to her feet.

“No,” Elizabeth insisted, holding D’s confused stare, “Don’t you ever kneel for me.  Don’t you ever for one second believe that’s what I want from you.  Don’t you ever think that you are anything less than anyone else.” 

“You said you were angry with me,” D’s eyes started fading back to [pale gray](http://www.divinecaroline.com/sites/divinecaroline.com/files/styles/full_content_width/public/shutterstock_128763254.jpg?itok=zG7Jz3AT), “I thought-”

“You thought wrong,” Elizabeth interrupted, “Yes, I am angry, but not for the reasons you think.” 

“ _Non intellego_ ,” D said quietly.  [Latin: I do not understand.] 

“I know you don’t,” Elizabeth tilted her head to press it against D’s, “We’ll talk about it later.” 

“Yes, ma'am,” D replied cautiously. 

“Right now, we have slightly more pressing matters,” Elizabeth finally dropped her hands and took a step back from D, “You’re going to report to the infirmary so Dr. Beckett can check the bruising on your neck.” 

“I’m fine, Elizabeth,” D shook her head, “He didn’t do any permanent damage.” 

“D,” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. 

“Infirmary, ma’am?” D sighed. 

“Infirmary, Dr. Vaughn,” Elizabeth nodded. 

“Yes, ma’am,” D stooped to pick up the discarded needles as she left the room. 

“The ZPM, Rodney?” Elizabeth questioned. 

“Caldwell’s codes worked,” Rodney responded quickly, “The fail-safes have been re-enabled.  The cloak is up and running.  Zelenka’s monitoring the systems.” 

“And the Wraith cruiser?” Elizabeth asked cautiously. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another scenario I consider for "Caldwell as a Goa'uld". I didn't include this one for the same reason as the first one - I felt not trusting Elizabeth was OOC for D.

When John arrived with Ronon in tow a couple minutes later, Rodney was waiting impatiently in the control room. 

“What’s going on?” John asked. 

“There’s a bomb somewhere in Atlantis,” Rodney answered, “Planted by a Trust operative.” 

“ _What_?” John questioned, “Where’s Elizabeth?”

“In her office with Dr. Vaughn,” Rodney gestured to where the two women were clearly arguing, “They’ve been in there since we got the message.” 

“We should start-” John started. 

“I don’t give a flying fuck about the City, Elizabeth!” D’s angry voice rang through the control room. 

“Well, I do!” Elizabeth shouted back, “And I’m not leaving.”    

“If you’re not going let me protect you,” D screamed, “then why the fuck am I even here?” 

John, Rodney, and Ronon made their way quickly into the office as the two women glared at each other in the middle of the room. 

“Is there a problem?” John asked evenly. 

“Leave,” D ordered as she turned to the three men, eyes flashing black.  Ronon started moving back out onto the bridge, but John and Rodney stayed where they stood. 

“You are not in charge here, Dr. Vaughn,” Elizabeth straightened. 

D put one hand on the center of John’s chest and the other in the center of Rodney’s, “Out.”   

“What are you doing?” Rodney protested, “Let go.” 

“Get out!” D fisted their shirts in a surprisingly strong grip and pushed the two men back onto the bridge to the control room.  She released them suddenly and whirled to face Elizabeth again.  Before John could recover from his shock, the door slid shut in front of them.  John sent a thought to Atlantis, trying to get the door to open again, but the City stubbornly refused to budge. 

“What the hell was that about?” Rodney gaped. 

“I don’t know,” John narrowed his eyes as he watch the two women continue to yell, “Can you get this door open?” 

“You have the magic gene,” Rodney insisted, “Can’t you just, you know.” 

“I tried,” John replied, “Atlantis won’t open it.” 

“Not from this side,” Rodney shook his head, “Unless you want me to break the glass.” 

When D took a step forward again, taking both Elizabeth’s wrists in her hands, John’s hand tightened on the gun at his thigh. 

“What about the other door?” John narrowed his eyes as Elizabeth pulled away. 

“D won’t hurt her,” Ronon said quietly.  Both John and Rodney looked up at the taller man behind them. 

“How do you know?” John asked cautiously.

“She won’t,” Ronon insisted. 

The door slid open again and D walked past John and Rodney, eyes still flashing with fury as she stopped in front of Ronon. 

“Listen to me very carefully, Specialist,” D held his eyes, “You know my job here.” 

“I do,” Ronon nodded. 

“If something happens to me,” D flicked her glance back to the office, “I want you to take my place.” 

“I will,” Ronon agreed easily. 

“Will you swear?” D asked evenly. 

Ronon lifted his right hand to press it to the center of D’s chest, “I swear to take your place should you fall, _kuahine_.”  [Hawaiian: sister]

D mirrored his motions, lifting her hand to his chest, “Thank you, _kunane_.”  [Hawaiian: brother]

D inclined her head as they both dropped their arms back to their sides.  She left through the control room without another word. 

“Gentleman,” Elizabeth stepped just outside her office, calmly composed once more, “What have you got, Rodney?” 

 

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

 

“We don’t have time to debate morality,” Caldwell insisted calmly, “Unfortunately, sometimes you have to do unpleasant things to save lives.” 

“Truer words, Colonel,” D stepped into the room carrying a small wooden case, “I hope I’m not interrupting.” 

“Where have you been?” Rodney scowled. 

“Around,” D answered vaguely, setting the wooden case down on the table, “I had some things I had to take care of.” 

“Dr. Vaughn,” Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, “I hope you’re not here to continue our earlier conversation.  I haven’t changed my mind.” 

“I’m not,” D smiled.

“If you’ve come to help…” Elizabeth started. 

“I came to do this,” D moved forward quickly, jabbing a long needle into the back of Caldwell’s neck at the same time she drew the gun from his side.   

“What the hell?” Caldwell raised a hand to the back of his neck as D stepped back. 

D raised the gun to aim it steadily at Rodney’s head. 

“Stand down,” John ordered as he stood, drawing his own gun to aim at D.

“Dr. Weir,” D said evenly, “Please leave the room.” 

“No,” Elizabeth protested, “What did you just do?” 

“Ronon,” D commanded, never taking her eyes off Caldwell, “Take her out of here now.” 

Ronon moved around the group silently, taking Elizabeth’s arms in a strong grip, pulling her from the room despite her protests and letting the doors rotate shut behind them. 

“Put your gun down, Colonel Sheppard,” D said calmly. 

“You put yours down,” John countered. 

D cocked the hammer back on the gun she held, “Put your gun on the table, Colonel, or I guarantee McKay will be dead before he hits the ground.  I’m not going to repeat myself again.” 

“Sheppard,” Rodney’s eyes widened, “Maybe you should do what she says.” 

John glanced over to Rodney, then raised his hands, setting the gun down on the table quietly. 

“Now,” D ordered, “sit down and move your chair one foot closer to Dr. McKay.”  

John sat back down in his chair and moved it closer to McKay.

“You even twitch towards the guns, Colonel,” D lowered her gun, removing the clip and clearing it before setting the pieces next to John’s, “And I will put a hole in you.  Stay quiet.”   

“Whatever you’re trying to accomplish here-” Caldwell started. 

“Let’s not waste time,” D held up a hand as she interrupted, “I just injected you with a modified form of symbiote poison.” 

Caldwell’s eyes flashed yellow and his voice became distorted, “Kill me and you are killing the host.” 

“You assume that I care about that host,” D dropped her hand back to her side, “I don’t.” 

“You must be the misplaced asset they spoke of,” the Goa’uld said, “I had my suspicions, but I wasn’t sure before now.” 

“I was never misplaced,” D raised an eyebrow, “As far as anyone on Earth is concerned, I died July 19 in Colorado Springs, Colorado.” 

“And yet here you are,” the Goa’uld sneered. 

“Here I am,” D agreed. 

“Are you here to watch me die?” the Goa’uld questioned. 

“On the contrary,” D replied, “I’m here to offer you a chance to live.” 

“You’ve already injected me with poison,” the Goa’uld reminded her, “It’s only a matter of time before I die.” 

“This particular variant of symbiote poison differs in two ways,” D explained, “First, it’s slower acting.  You have exactly,” D looked at her watch, “twenty eight minutes and three seconds before the toxicity reaches lethal levels.” 

“And second?” the Goa’uld inquired. 

“It has an antidote,” D responded calmly, “Which I would be willing to provide, if you agree to my terms.” 

“What terms?” the Goa’uld asked. 

“We’re going to play a game,” a predatory smile spread across D’s face, “If I win, you give me the code to re-enable the fail-safes and you willingly leave that host.” 

“And if I win?” the Goa’uld questioned. 

“I give you the antidote,” D answered, “and you are free to leave-” 

“Not enough,” the Goa’uld shook his head. 

“-with me,” D finished. 

The Goa’uld stayed silent. 

“If they’ve told you about me, their ‘misplaced asset’,” D stepped closer, voice dropping to a purr, “then you know what I’m offering you.” 

The Goa’uld came closer, leering down at D, “What would I do with an _angel_ like you?” 

“Whatever you wanted,” D laughed seductively, trailing a hand down his chest, “Take me back to your masters, win favor by giving me back to them.  Keep me for yourself, as a pet, a slave, a concubine.  Take me as a host.  I’m sure someone like you could think of _many_ uses for someone like me.” 

The Goa’uld lifted a hand and D tilted her head back slightly, offering him access to her neck. 

“Is it true what they say, angel?” the Goa’uld pulled the zipper of her shirt down, running his fingers over the newly exposed skin of her chest, “About how you’ve been conditioned, how you’ve been trained?  What that pretty little body you try so hard to hide is capable of?” 

“Every single word,” the smoke in D’s voice became thicker, “My skills and abilities are far beyond your wildest hopes and dreams.  Play a game with me and you have a chance to find out.” 

The Goa’uld wrapped his fingers around her throat and started squeezing, “And if I decide to kill you now?” 

“I die a few minutes before you,” D’s words were strained as the Goa’uld continued to cut off her air, “My deal is fair.  Take it or condemn us both to death.” 

“I agree to your terms,” the Goa’uld released her suddenly, studying the bruises blossoming on her throat with a smile. 

“Wait a minute,” Rodney protested, “You can’t just-” 

“McKay,” D turned to him with a hard stare, “Be quiet.”

“I will not,” Rodney insisted, “How do you know he’ll keep his word if you win?” 

“I don’t,” D said flippantly as she moved to the wooden case, “Sheppard, shut him up or I will.” 

Rodney opened his mouth to protest again, but Sheppard clamped a hand over his forearm and shook his head. 

“What game are we playing, angel?” the Goa’uld took a seat at the head of the table. 

D set the wooden case in front of him, sitting in the chair next to him as she opened it. 

“I believe you know how to play chess,” D started setting up the board. 

“I do,” the Goa’uld smiled widely, “Bold choice.” 

“Since playing a game was my idea,” D replied as she set the final piece in position, “I’ll let you have the first move.” 

“When I win,” the Goa’uld leaned forward, choosing his first move carelessly, “and you belong to me, I’m going to make you scream.  I’m going to make you beg me for mercy.  After I’ve taken all the pleasure I want from you, I’m going to use your body as a host and make you watch as I destroy thousands of your kind.” 

D laughed as she moved her own piece, “I’ve never begged anyone in my life.  I certainly don’t intend to start with you.” 

“We shall see, angel,” the Goa’uld smiled as he made his second move.  

Ten minutes later, the game seemed to be about even, captured pieces on both sides, when Caldwell’s blinks became slower, his concentration wavering. 

“Since we’re almost finished with our game,” D checked her watch, “I should probably tell you a couple things.” 

“Like what?” the Goa’uld moved another piece. 

“Well,” D took his bishop, “First, you’re three moves away from checkmate.” 

“I am not,” the Goa’uld disagreed as he took D’s rook. 

“Second, there’s something else you should know about me,” D smiled, “I’m a very good liar.” 

“What?” the Goa’uld raised his head slowly to look at D. 

“It’s not poison,” D stood, reaching over to put a hand on the Goa’uld’s cheek as he slumped down in his seat, “It’s a combination of several very powerful sedatives and a strong paralytic.” 

“You…” the Goa’uld’s eyes flashed yellow as he stiffened in his chair. 

“Colonel?” D asked cautiously. 

“Dr. Vaughn?” Caldwell’s voice was back to normal, fear in his eyes as he looked at her. 

“The drugs won’t last long, Caldwell,” D said quickly, “Do you know what’s going on?” 

“The Trust,” Caldwell gave a slight nod, “and the Goa’uld.” 

“I need you to give me your access code,” D urged, “so Dr. McKay can re-enable the fail-safes.” 

“Of course,” Caldwell agreed.

“McKay,” D ordered, “Get over here.” 

“What?” Rodney gaped.

D turned to him, “Get your stupid ass over here so Caldwell can give you the access code, Rodney.  Sheppard, you can have your gun back now, but I’d appreciate it if you wait to shoot me until after I apologize to Elizabeth.” 

Rodney scrambled over with his tablet, carefully typing in the code Caldwell gave him as John retrieved both guns.  D looked towards the doors as the rotated open.  Rodney rushed past the waiting guards, shouting to Elizabeth that he had the code as they stepped in, guns aimed at D and Caldwell. 

D pulled a second needle from her pocket, pulling the cap off with her teeth and spitting it onto the floor, “This is another sedative, Colonel.  It will keep both you and the Goa’uld asleep until it can be removed.  I’ve already spoken to Hermiod about extraction methods.” 

“Thank you,” Caldwell whispered as D pushed the needle gently into his neck and depressed the plunger, “Thank you for stopping me.”    

D took the earpiece from Caldwell’s now unconscious body and slipped it over her own ear, tapping it on and speaking rapidly in Asgard as she set the empty needle on the table.  She stepped back from Caldwell’s body and it was surrounded by a wash of white light before he disappeared.  D looked over to where the uniformed men still had their guns pointed in her direction and raised her hands to shoulder level, stepping around the table slowly.  She turned around face the back wall, sinking gracefully to her knees as she interlocked her fingers behind her head. 

“You can put me in a holding cell now,” D said evenly, “I won’t resist.”   

“Gentleman,” Elizabeth waved the Marines away, “Please excuse us.” 

D stayed in her position as the room emptied of everyone except Elizabeth and John. 

“Get up,” Elizabeth commanded. 

“Ma’am?” D asked cautiously. 

“Stand up, Dr. Vaughn,” Elizabeth said coolly.

D slowly lowered her hands to her sides as she stood, turning around to face Elizabeth, but keeping her head ducked down. 

“So Caldwell was a Goa’uld,” Elizabeth started. 

“Yes, ma’am,” D agreed. 

“How long have you known?” Elizabeth questioned. 

“I didn’t know for-” D began. 

“ _How long_?” Elizabeth interrupted. 

“I’ve suspected Colonel Caldwell was working for the Trust since the incident with the retrovirus,” D answered evenly, “I didn’t know for sure until two hours ago.” 

“You’ve suspected for months,” John said furiously, “that there was a Trust operative with access to Atlantis and you never said anything?” 

“No,” D replied simply. 

“Why the hell not?” John questioned. 

“I cannot answer that, Colonel Sheppard,” D kept her head down. 

“Because he never threatened me,” Elizabeth crossed her arms across her chest. 

“What?” John looked over to Elizabeth. 

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Elizabeth asked D.   

“Ma’am,” D replied neutrally.

“One of you needs to explain,” John looked between the two women, “No more changing the subject, no more evasions.” 

“ _Domina_ ,” D finally looked up at Elizabeth, “ _Et dicere ei non potes veritas_.”  [Latin: You cannot tell him the truth.]

“I am not your master, D,” Elizabeth straightened, “and you’ve left me very few options at this point.” 

“Ma’am,” the look in D’s eyes was pleading. 

“Dr. Vaughn is a former CIA asset,” Elizabeth explained calmly, “who was unknowingly working for the Trust.  They tried to have General O’Neill and I killed just before we left Earth so they could take control of Atlantis.  When D came to the General with her doubts about what was happening, he offered to protect her by sending her here.  In exchange, she agreed to protect me from any potential threats, Trust or otherwise.  In order to protect her, and better facilitate her job, O’Neill ordered Dr. Beckett and me not to reveal anything about her identity.” 

“Is that why you suspected Caldwell?” John directed the question to D.

“Answer him,” Elizabeth commanded when D stayed silent.     

“No,” D responded carefully, “I suspected him because he never once asked who I was.  He never questioned why Dr. Weir suddenly had a shadow following her around everywhere.  His profile and background didn’t fit his demeanor.  As a Colonel in the USAF, especially one who works for the SGC, he should have been more curious.” 

“Is what Elizabeth said true?” John questioned, “Did you keep your suspicions to yourself because Caldwell didn’t threaten her directly?” 

“Only partly,” D answered, “I had no way to confirm my suspicions without revealing myself.  It is also my nature to keep my opinions to myself until such time as they become fact.  I had no proof and no reason to look for it, until this morning.” 

Elizabeth looking up as he doors rotated open and Rodney came back inside. 

“Fail-safes re-enabled,” Rodney said quickly, “And Zelenka’s monitoring the cloak.” 

“Good,” Elizabeth nodded and turned back to D, “What proof did you find?”

“There was a gap in one of the data stream sequences from several weeks ago,” D explained, “Which-” 

“Was probably a deletion point,” Rodney interrupted. 

“There were two,” D nodded in agreement, “The first when the Goa’uld accessed the City’s operating system.  Most likely, the Goa’uld took it back to the Trust operatives on Earth, letting their scientists rewrite it before he brought it back, uploading it to the City during the second deletion point.” 

“That was it?” Rodney questioned, “How did you know it was Caldwell from just that?” 

“I didn’t,” D looked to Elizabeth as she continued hesitantly, “I also reviewed the security tapes from every time Caldwell interacted with the senior staff.  When Rodney triggered me the first time in Dr. Weir’s office, he smiled.  None of you noticed because your attention was focused on me and I didn’t notice because I could only see Dr. McKay as a threat.  Also, when Colonel Sheppard was infected with the retrovirus, the Goa’uld spent some time with Dr. Weir playing chess.  The game keeps a record of past matches and when I found that particular game I noticed that Caldwell had a style of playing that didn’t match what I knew about his background.” 

“His chess moves don’t match his personality?” Rodney asked skeptically. 

“The play style was overly aggressive,” D explained, “He went on the offensive early and stayed there the entire game, continually sacrificing weaker pieces to keep that aggression.” 

“That’s all it took?” John wondered, “A couple holes in the computer logs, a smile, and a chess match?” 

“I’ve made harder decisions with much less,” D replied carefully. 

“As a CIA asset?” John narrowed his eyes. 

“All of my work is classified, Colonel Sheppard,” D said smoothly, “I hope you don’t expect me to actually answer that question.” 

“Why didn’t you come to me with this information?” Elizabeth asked quietly. 

“What would you have done, Elizabeth?” D tilted her head to the side, “If I had come to you months ago, saying I suspected that Caldwell was really working for the Trust.  You would’ve confronted him, put your life in danger, as well as the lives of many others on this base.  I didn’t put anyone besides myself in danger.” 

“You didn’t know he was a Goa’uld,” Rodney said thoughtfully. 

“I didn’t,” D looked to Rodney, “But I always have contingency plans.  Had he been human, the injection I gave him would’ve caused him to lose consciousness immediately.  Then he could’ve been awakened for questioning at any time with a second injection of stimulants.  When he was able to stay conscious, I enacted my secondary plan.” 

“Which involved aiming a gun at my face,” Rodney scowled, “and offering to give yourself to a Goa’uld for whatever evil schemes he could think up.” 

“You did _what_?” Elizabeth’s voice hardened. 

“And let’s not forget the part where you were going to let him choke you to death,” Rodney continued. 

“He wasn’t squeezing hard enough to kill me,” D informed him, “Only enough to bruise my throat and partially cut-off my airway.  Even if he was foolish enough to kill me, Colonel Sheppard was still within reach of a loaded forty-five and-”

“Stop,” Elizabeth interrupted harshly, “You offered to give yourself to the Goa’uld?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” D ducked her head at Elizabeth’s tone. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Elizabeth shouted, “Do you have any idea what the consequences of that decision would be?  What would happen if the Goa’uld got a hold of you?” Elizabeth took a deep breath, visibly restraining her anger as she spoke again, “Did you ever once consider what would happen if you went back?” 

“You are not going to like my response, ma’am,” D kept her head down, “Do you wish me to answer honestly?” 

“Yes,” Elizabeth answered shortly. 

“In the unlikely event that the sedatives didn’t work, I lost, and the Goa’uld managed to escape with me,” D raised a hand to remove a very small object from inside her cheek, holding it out for Elizabeth to take, “I took precautions.” 

“Is that a cyanide pill?” Rodney questioned, “Where do you even get something like that here?” 

“It’s Beckett’s original retrovirus,” D finally looked up at Elizabeth again, “Even that small amount would ensure that nothing of value would be left.  Even if they were able to acquire the records about the project, they wouldn’t be able to duplicate it without live samples.” 

“I’m not talking about the damn project, D,” Elizabeth swore, “I’m talking about what they would do to you.”

“Ma’am?” D tilted her head to the side. 

“Do you understand what they would do to you?” Elizabeth moved forward, “The Goa’uld have methods of torture beyond normal humans.  They could kill you and revive you countless times, until nothing is left of your mind.  They will use you to commit atrocities across world.” 

“With respect, ma’am,” D replied quietly, “ _Oni ispol'zovali menya, chtoby sovershat' zlodeyaniya v proshlom_.”  [Russian: They have used me to commit atrocities in the past.]


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another scenario (It's the last one, I swear) that I considered for "Caldwell as a Goa'uld". I didn't include this one because it was turned out a little unbelievable, even for me.

“I did, ma’am,” D slid her right hand inside her jacket and her left behind her back.  She stepped close to Caldwell and pressed the knife in her left hand against his neck as she pulled a gun with her right to aim it at John, “I’ve narrowed it down to two people.” 

“Stand down, Vaughn,” John ordered as he stood, drawing his own gun to aim at D.  Caldwell held perfectly still as Ronon drew his blaster as well, hesitating for only a second before aiming at D. 

“Dr. Weir,” D said evenly, “Please leave the room.” 

“I will not,” Elizabeth insisted angrily, “What are you doing, Dr. Vaughn?” 

“Specialist Dex,” D spoke without looking away from John and Caldwell, “I want you to take Drs. Weir and McKay out of this room.” 

“Wait, what?” Rodney questioned. 

“Do you know what you’re doing, kuahine?” Ronon asked softly as he lowered his weapon.  [Hawaiian: sister]

“Rarely,” D answered softly, “Do as I ask, kunane.”  [Hawaiian: brother]

“Up,” Ronon pulled Rodney from his chair with one hand, shoving him towards the door.  Ronon moved over to Elizabeth, taking her arms in a strong grip, pulling her from the room despite her protests and letting the doors rotate shut behind them. 

“Put your gun down, Colonel Sheppard,” D ordered calmly. 

“You put yours down,” John countered. 

D cocked the hammer back on the gun she held, “Put your gun on the table, Colonel, or you’ll dead before you hit the ground.  I’m not going to repeat myself again.” 

“Sheppard,” Caldwell spoke calmly, “Maybe you should do what the lady says.” 

John gave Caldwell a frustrated look before he raised his hands, setting the gun down on the table quietly. 

“Sit down,” D commanded, “Hands where I can see them.”   

John sat back down in his chair, keeping his hands up where D could see them.  D lowered the knife from Caldwell’s neck, slipping it back behind her back as she shifted the gun to aim at his back.  She moved over to pick up John’s gun, using one hand to drop the magazine to the floor then kicking it across the room.  She set the gun back on the table before she finally lowered her gun and put it away. 

“You idiot,” D swore as she removed her uniform jacket with a sigh, revealing the shoulder holster that held her gun against her ribs.  She threw the jacket on the nearest table as she reached up to pull the pins from the low bun, then the rubber band before running her fingers through her hair several times as it fell in loose waves down her back. 

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right here,” D unzipped the collar of her blue uniform shirt, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done here?” 

“What are you talking about?” John asked angrily, “You’re the one who-” 

“Oh, shut up, John,” D rolled her eyes, “I wasn’t talking to you.” 

“I hope you don’t think that I-” Caldwell started. 

D reached over and slapped him across the face, the sound echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet room. 

“I don’t want to hear the stupidity spilling out of that mouth right now,” D said coolly, “And we don’t have time for pretending.  McKay will figure out how to override the lock on the doors soon.  Let me make this easy on you: I know you’re Goa’uld.” 

“If you know I am Goa’uld,” Caldwell’s eyes flashed gold as his voice became distorted, “then you know I possess the strength of many men.  Striking me again would be unwise on your part.” 

D’s eyes darkened to black as she stepped forward, her chin tilted up defiantly as the dangerous smile spread across her face, “Do I look worried?” 

The Goa’uld stared at D for a tense moment before he spoke again, “You’re not quite human, are you?” 

“No,” D’s smile sharpened, “I’m not.” 

“What are you?” the Goa’uld asked. 

“I am Azrael,” D answered simply. 

“That’s impossible,” the Goa’uld argued, “The Angelus Mortis could not be someone so-”  [Latin: Angel of Death]

“Choose your next words carefully, snake,” D growled lowly, “I do not take kindly to being insulted.” 

“You’re supposed to be dead,” the Goa’uld smiled, “I wonder how your masters will react when they learn you’ve failed your mission and that you’ve been hiding here instead.” 

“Well, that explains a few things,” D raised an eyebrow, “I assumed you were higher up on the food chain.  I do not fail missions.  Look around you, moron.  Where are we?” 

“You can’t expect me to believe you’re here under orders,” the Goa’uld scoffed, “They call you the ‘fallen angel’ on Earth.  There was a great deal of unrest after your supposed death.  They brought in specialists to retrieve your body and extract the DNA.  Six new assets were recruited to replace you.” 

“Awww,” D pressed a hand over her heart, “I’m flattered that I’m so missed.” 

“Prove it,” the Goa’uld commanded. 

D pulled a slim curved knife from the holster at her back.  She stuck her left index finger through the ring on the hilt before she held her right hand out, palm up.  She slid the point across her palm, cutting easily through the skin.  She held the hand up for the Goa’uld to see that it wasn’t bleeding. 

“Angels don’t bleed,” D slipped the knife back into its sheath, “Satisfied?  Now can we discuss the fact that you have all but ruined six months of undercover work?” 

“I was following my orders, Azrael,” the Goa’uld insisted, “Maybe if you were better at your job, this would have been unnecessary.” 

“No one is better at this than I am.  I have spent the last six months of my life playing the broken doll for these…” D paused to sneer at John, “…these people.  They trust me completely.  Another month and I could have simply handed the City over to the Trust’s control.  You have managed to fuck that up, however, with your ridiculous plan to overload the ZPM.  Luckily for you, I always have contingency plans.” 

“And what is your plan, angel?” the Goa’uld wondered. 

“I’ve planted enough evidence to convince everyone that John here,” D gestured to John, “is the Trust operative they’ve been looking for.” 

“No one will believe that,” John shook his head, “Elizabeth won’t-” 

D stepped over to the table and backhanded John across the face, “No one told you that you could speak.  I don’t need you to be alive for this to work, Sheppard.  Be a good little boy and I’ll keep you alive for a little bit longer.” 

John spit the blood from his mouth onto the floor as he looked up at D with an angry glare. 

“He’s right,” the Goa’uld crossed his arms over his chest, “Dr. Weir will have a difficult time believing that her precious Colonel is a traitor.” 

“Not if he attacks me,” something shifted across D’s face and she suddenly looked terrified as her voice wavered, tears welling up in her eyes, “‘I’m sorry, Elizabeth.  I was hoping it wasn’t him.  I wanted to be wrong.  I tried to stop him, but he got a hold of my gun.  We struggled and he…I…he’s dead, ma’am.  I’m so sorry.’” 

“Impressive acting, angel,” the Goa’uld smiled sharply, “But how can you be certain no one will question the planted evidence?” 

“You’re making it very difficult to not feel insulted, snake,” the terror and tears vanished from D’s demeanor, replaced with a cold anger, “I have been doing this for over a decade.  You said yourself it takes six assets to replace me.” 

“How do I know this isn’t a ruse?” the Goa’uld questioned, “A trick to make me give you the access codes.” 

“I’m taking just as much of a risk as you are,” D looked to the doors, “and we’re running out of time for you to decide.  McKay will have the door open in less than three minutes.” 

“For your plan to work, Azrael,” the Goa’uld moved closer, raising his hand to run a finger slowly down the side of D’s face, “We’ll have to make it look like Sheppard attacked you.” 

“I’m well aware of that,” D shivered as the Goa’uld’s finger trailed down her neck, “I figured you would enjoy that piece of the plan.  I have one condition.” 

“What condition, angel?” the Goa’uld drug his finger back up D’s neck as she tilted her head to the side, giving him easier access. 

“I get to kill Sheppard,” D smirked, “He’s been a massive thorn in my side and I’d really enjoy being the one to kill him.” 

The Goa’uld laughed as he wrapped his hand around the front of her throat, “On one condition.  I only give you the codes after you’ve been damaged and after you kill him.” 

“You damage me,” D countered, “I shoot him then you enter the codes on the tablet that Rodney left behind so it looks like you managed to get them from Sheppard before he died.” 

“You’re not going to enjoy this, Azrael,” the Goa’uld leaned down to whisper against her lips, “but I am.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong,” D smiled coyly as she slid her hands up his chest, pulling his head back down to press her lips against his softly, “I’m going to enjoy this a great deal.” 

D flicked her left hand, jabbing the needle that she produced from beneath her sleeve into the back of his neck and depressing the plunger.  John stood, snatching his gun off the table and pulling a second clip from his pocket and slamming it into place as the Goa’uld’s eyes flashed gold and he fell to his knees.  John aimed the gun steadily at Caldwell’s kneeling body as the doors rotated open and Elizabeth rushed in, followed closely by Ronon and a very confused Rodney. 

D held Caldwell’s face between her hands as she spoke calmly, “Steven?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Caldwell acknowledged, “I’m here.” 

“I injected a very potent paralytic directly into the Goa’uld,” D held him steady, “but the effects won’t last long.  I need you to give us the fail-safe codes before the Goa’uld takes control again.  Can you do that?” 

“Of course,” Caldwell agreed weakly. 

“Rodney,” D looked over her shoulder, “Get over here now.  We don’t have much time.” 

When Rodney only continued to gape at her, Ronon grabbed his tablet off the table and thrust it into his hands, shoving him towards D and Caldwell.  Caldwell gave Rodney the access codes, his voice shaking with concentration.  Rodney rushed from the room as soon as Caldwell finished the last number. 

“He’s trying to take control again,” Caldwell clenched his jaw, “I don’t know how much longer I can-” 

“I’ve got you,” D assured him.  She let go his face with her right hand to reach into her pants pocket, pulling out a second syringe.  She pulled the cap off with her teeth, spitting it onto the ground as she stuck the needle gently into Caldwell’s carotid. 

“This is a mix of several very powerful sedatives,” D told him as she tossed the needle to the side, “It will keep both you and the Goa’uld out until it can be removed.” 

“Thank you,” Caldwell’s eyelids started drooping heavily, “for stopping me.” 

D helped Caldwell gently down to the ground, still cradling his head in one hand as she knelt beside him.  Both Ronon and John moved forward warily, guns still ready. 

“He’s out,” D looked up at Elizabeth, “He needs to be transferred to a secure room, put in restraints, and kept under heavy sedation, ma’am.  I’d recommend having the Daedalus beam him into one of the isolation rooms as soon as the guards are in place.” 

“Do it,” Elizabeth nodded. 

“Colonel,” D turned to look up at John, “Whatever number of guards you’re thinking of right now, double it.  The Goa’uld is going to be extremely pissed off if it manages to wake up.  I’d rather not take the chance of him getting loose in the City.” 

John nodded curtly as he tapped his earpiece.  Two minutes later, Caldwell’s body disappeared in a wash of light.  John and Ronon finally lowered their guns before Ronon stalked over to D, holding out a hand to help her to her feet.  He stared at her for a minute then slugged her hard in the arm. 

“OW!” D pouted, “Was that really necessary?” 

“Yes,” Ronon raised a hand to rest it against her cheek, “You should’ve told me, kuahine.  I would’ve helped.” 

“Sorry, kunane,” D swayed into his touch, “Does this mean I get your gun if you die?”  

“Sure,” Ronon dropped his hand and left the room, “Gonna go keep an eye on Caldwell.”   

“Stun, Ronon,” D called after him. She shook her head with a fond smile, then turned back to Elizabeth, “The security footage?” 

“There is no footage,” Elizabeth assured her, “The camera was disconnected earlier.” 

“Good,” D blinked slowly, “You should probably call Carson, ma’am.  Can’t hold it any longer.” 

“D?” Elizabeth took a hesitant step forward, “What did you do?” 

D looked down at her right hand as it suddenly began bleeding heavily, a pool of blood growing rapidly at her feet as she swayed again. 

“Angels don’t bleed,” D smiled weakly, “Had to convince the snake it was really me.” 

John rushed over to catch D as she began to collapse.  He helped her gently to the ground, supporting her head against his chest.

Elizabeth’s hand flew to her earpiece, “Dr. Beckett to the conference room.  Medical emergency.” 

Elizabeth snatched D’s jacket off the nearby table and balled it up as she knelt down next to D and John.  She pressed the wadded up cloth against D’s hand tightly. 

“That was my last clean jacket,” D frowned at Elizabeth. 

“Would you rather bleed to death?” John drawled. 

“It’ll normalize soon,” D closed her eyes, “Only going to lose about a pint and a half, maybe two.  Some fluids, a couple stitches, and I’ll be fine.  Sorry I hit you so hard.” 

“I’ll be fine,” John assured her, “You going to tell me how you pulled off that neat little trick?” 

“Which one?” D snorted, “I got lots of tricks.  Sleight of hand, lying my ass off convincingly-” 

“The one where you didn’t bleed from a wound for a good five minutes,” John interjected, “That trick.” 

“Nope, not gonna tell you ‘bout that one,” D sighed and patted Elizabeth’s arm awkwardly with her uninjured hand, “Don’t leave the needles on the floor, ‘Lizbeth.  Someone could get poked.” 

“Jack was right about you,” Elizabeth laughed softly, “You are an unbelievable pain in the ass.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate ending to Chapter 52.

“Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm sure you'll both agree that the paperwork on this is going to be a nightmare,” Caldwell paused and smiled widely, “especially that kiss.” 

Any response John or Elizabeth could’ve made was forestalled by a blood-curdling scream from across the infirmary, followed by a loud crash and raised voices.  John and Elizabeth both ripped the wires from their foreheads, jumping out of the bed to follow Caldwell to where the commotion was.  They came around the corner to see two uniformed guards on the ground, their guns in pieces next to them.  The medical staff was scrambling away from D, but she managed to grab a nearby nurse, wrapping her IV line around the man’s throat and pulling tight as she backed up against the wall. 

“ _Non_ ,” D shook her head violently, her irises wavering back and forth between gray and black, “ _Noli me tangere_.”  [Latin: No.] [Latin: Do not touch me.]

“Dr. Vaughn,” Carson held his hands up but stayed where he was, “I need you to let Mark go.  You’re hurting him.” 

“ _Peregre abeo_ ,” sweat broke out on D’s temples, “ _Occidam eum_.”  [Latin: Go away.] [Latin: I will kill him.]

“D,” John stepped forward, “No one’s going to hurt you.  You need to let Nurse Kelly go.”

“ _Non plus_ ,” D shook her head back and forth again, pulling the line tighter, “ _Dicebam vobis_ , _non laborabit_.”  [Latin: No more.] [Latin: I told you, it won’t work.] 

“Clear the room,” Caldwell ordered, “Now.” 

The guards got to their feet slowly, making sure the medical staff got out of the room, leaving only Carson, Caldwell, Elizabeth, John, D, and the nurse who was still being held in place by her IV line. 

“Let Nurse Kelly go,” John commanded softly, “He’s not a threat.  You don’t really want to hurt him, D.”  

Caldwell reached over to grab Elizabeth’s elbow, pulling her away to whisper in her ear, “What’s the command to put her down?” 

“What?” Elizabeth questioned, “What are you talking about?”    

“That conversation the three of us were supposed to have, we don’t have time for all of it.  The Trust had extensive files on her, which means I know everything they did, including the programming.  That is _not_ Dr. Vaughn right now,” Caldwell flicked his glance to where John and Carson were still trying to talk D down, “That is Azrael.  She’s probably half out of her mind with drugs and she’s operating on her basic instincts.  She’ll only accept commands from whoever she considers her master and right now, that’s you.  I know it goes against your sensibilities, but if you don’t get her under control soon, she’ll kill all of us, _without hesitation_ , in order to protect herself.  Then she’ll be loose in the City with no one to stop her.  Is that what you want?” 

“No, of course not,” Elizabeth straightened and stepped forward, voice strong and even when she continued, “Azrael, _obedite_.”  [Latin: Obey]

D’s wild-eyed stare went immediately to Elizabeth, her irises settling on black. 

“ _Quod sic, Domina,_ ” D answered automatically, loosening her grip on the IV line.  [Latin: Yes, Master.]

“ _Illo dimitti_ , Azrael,” Elizabeth commanded. [Latin: Release him.] 

“ _Quod sic, Domina_ ,” D dropped the IV line to the floor.  The nurse moved away quickly, waved out of the room by Carson.    

“ _Descende,_ Azrael,” Elizabeth ordered.  [Latin: Down, Azrael.]

“ _Quod sic, Domina_ ,” D sank to her knees, still holding Elizabeth’s strong gaze as a dark red stain spread across the front of her white hospital gown. 

Elizabeth stepped closer, placing a firm, steady hand on the back of D’s neck as D bowed her head, her long hair falling over her shoulders to cover her face. 

“I want you to come back, _angelus_ ,” Elizabeth commanded quietly, “Whatever you are remembering right now, it’s only in your mind.  Listen to my voice and when I give the command, you’ll come back to the here and now.  _Capis_?” [Latin: angel] [Latin: Do you understand?] 

“ _Quod sic, Domina_ ,” D replied. 

“ _Respice ad me_ , Azrael,” Elizabeth ordered as she titled D’s head back gently until D was meeting her gaze, “ _Assurgo_.”  [Latin: Look at me.] [Latin: Rise up.] 

D blinked rapidly, irises fading back to [pale gray](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/1c/64/ac/1c64ac237e904a9d37e4e568b310b604.jpg) as she trembled.

“It’s Elizabeth, D,” Elizabeth brushed D’s hair back from her face, “Are you there?” 

“‘Lizbeth?” D paled, eyes widening in fear as she finally focused on the woman standing in front of her, “Oh god.  Did I-” 

“Everyone’s fine,” Elizabeth assured her quickly, “You’re okay.” 

Elizabeth knelt down as D started shaking violently and she wrapped her arms around the smaller woman as she started heaving uncontrollably.  D let her head fall against Elizabeth’s collarbone as she took unsteady breaths, babbling incoherently in several unrecognizable languages.  Caldwell shook his head when Carson tried to get closer, waving the other man away. 

“Shhh, it’s all right,” Elizabeth held D’s head against chest gently, “Relax.  Breathe with me.  Inhale to four, hold to seven, and exhale to eight.  Match your heartbeat to mine.”

D did as she was told, gradually slowing her breaths to match Elizabeth’s. 

“That’s good,” Elizabeth reassured her, “You’re okay, D.”

“I didn’t mean to,” D mumbled the words into Elizabeth’s shirt, “I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.”    

“You didn’t hurt anyone,” Elizabeth ran her hands down D’s back in soothing motions, “Everything’s okay.”    

“I thought he was…” D spoke hesitantly, “I wasn’t going to let them…”

“You’re safe,” Elizabeth kept up the motions, “You are _safe_ here.” 

“Safe,” D repeated, “No one’s going to hurt me here.” 

“I’ve got you,” Elizabeth insisted quietly, “I won’t let anyone hurt you.” 

“Why the fuck does my chest feel like it’s on fire?” D sat back slightly and looked down at the blood stain spreading across the top of her gown, then back up at Elizabeth, “I’m bleeding.  Why the fuck am I bleeding?”

“Because you got shot yesterday,” Caldwell answered carefully. 

“I got-Oh,” D frowned slightly as she looked back up at Elizabeth, “I remember now.  Elizabeth, you shot me.” 

“Yes, I did,” Elizabeth winced, “Sorry.” 

“Am I still bleeding from yesterday?” D wondered, “‘cause I’m pretty sure that’s a bad thing.” 

“You’re bleeding again because you’ve pulled your sutures loose,” Carson moved closer cautiously, “The bullet entered your right lung, causing it to collapse, and shattered two of your ribs before it lodged against your scapula.  That’s why it’s difficult for you to breathe right now.  You lost several pints of blood in the lab.  Your heart stopped for a minute and a half just as the medical team arrived.  I performed surgery to remove the bullet, repairing the tears to the tissue, re-inflating your lung, and setting your ribs.  Your heart stopped again during surgery for another two minutes.  You’ve been under heavy sedation for the last twenty hours.  To be honest, I’m not entirely sure how you’re awake right now.” 

“Still pulling to the right, Liz,” D gave a weak laugh, then scowled at Carson, “Wait a minute.  You _sedated_ me?” 

“For the surgery,” Carson nodded, “And to give your body time to recover.” 

“And then you sent Nurse Kelly over to check on me?” D asked incredulously. 

“He was checking the incision on your chest,” Carson answered carefully. 

“While there were armed men in uniform within visual range,” D continued flatly.       

“I didn’t know you could see them from here,” Carson spoke patiently, “They’re here for Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Weir.” 

“For fuck’s sake, Carson,” D swore quietly, “What in the fucking hell were you thinking?  I could’ve killed them.  I almost _did_ kill Mark.” 

“I was thinking that you’d be out for at least another day,” Carson said regretfully, “Had I any inkling you’d wake up early, I would’ve sent a female nurse instead and had the guards move out of sight.  I’m sorry, D.  I truly am.” 

“Don’t ever assume that…” D continued shakily, “You read my…you _know_ what they did to me…when they sedated me…they...when they let…” 

“Hey, relax,” Elizabeth put a hand on the back of D’s neck again, “Take a deep breath.” 

D nodded, laying her head back on Elizabeth’s collar bone. 

“How about we get you off the cold floor?” Elizabeth suggested after a moment.      

“I’ll need to check your sutures and redress your wounds,” Carson agreed, “Let’s get you up, shall we?” 

“Not sure I can stand by myself,” D admitted, the words muffled against Elizabeth’s chest, “Adrenaline is wearing off.  I may need some help getting up.”    

“I don’t think I can get you up by myself and we sent everyone else away,” Elizabeth tilted D’s head up gently, “Will you be all right if someone here helps?” 

D glanced around the room quickly as she chewed her bottom lip. 

“John,” D finally decided. 

“You sure?” Elizabeth asked carefully. 

“He’s safe,” D nodded, “You said.”    

John moved over to them, crouching down to hook an arm under D’s arms and legs, but stopped when she flicked him in the ear. 

“If you try to carry me to that bed,” D scowled at him, “I will snap your skateboard in half.  Just help me get my feet under me.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of carrying you, Vaughn,” John drawled, changing his grip to help steady D as she stood.  Between Elizabeth and John, they were able to get D slowly back to her feet, shuffling her over to the nearby gurney. 

“Up you go, love,” Carson ordered gently. 

John and Elizabeth helped D up onto the bed and settled on her left side against the pillows.

“No more sedation,” D fixed Carson with a hard stare. 

“As long as you promise to stay in bed until I tell you it’s okay to get up again,” Carson agreed, “But I am going to have to give you a local anesthetic while I fix your stitches.”      

“Fine, but only because I have a forty-five caliber hole in my chest,” D closed her eyes, “Colonel can’t carry a nine like everyone else.  Jerk.”   

“Sometimes you just need the big bullets,” John shrugged. 

“I’m sure,” D snorted and Elizabeth smothered a smile.    

“By the way,” D cracked one eye open to glare at Caldwell, “I’d like to take this opportunity, while I’m still conscious, to say, ‘I told you so’.” 

“Yes, you did, Dr. Vaughn,” Caldwell smiled wryly, “and you were right.  About everything, including the power situation.” 

“Usually am, but no one ever listens,” D’s eyes drifted closed again as Carson pulled her shirt to the side to expose reddened bandages, “And you can call me D.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another alternate ending to Chapter 52.

 

“I asked the good doctor to wait,” Caldwell answered evenly. 

“What?  Why?” John frowned and set his PDA down next to him, “If this healing device can help her, what’s the problem?” 

“The Colonel is not convinced that we should be helping her,” Carson straightened, the worry on his face replaced by growing anger, “He seems to be under the impression that would be better if she didn’t recover fully.  That she’s somehow dangerous to this City, you in particular, Elizabeth.  He’s already ordered her to be guarded ‘round the clock.” 

“She does need to be guarded,” Caldwell insisted as he met Elizabeth’s stare, “Do you know who she was working for before she came here?  Do you know what mission led her to the SGC?” 

“I do,” Elizabeth nodded once.  

“What mission?” John narrowed his eyes at Elizabeth. 

“It’s not-” Elizabeth started. 

“Azrael was ordered by the Trust to kill Dr. Weir,” Caldwell spoke over her, “and General O’Neill.” 

“She was what?” John whipped his head around to Elizabeth, “What is he talking about, Elizabeth?” 

“She can’t disobey an order,” Caldwell continued, “She can delay carrying it out, but not indefinitely.  It’s only a matter of time before she turns on you.” 

“A verbal order,” Elizabeth corrected, “And now, only my verbal orders.  The information the Trust has on her is not accurate or complete.  She’s not a danger to me in any way.” 

“That doesn’t mean she’s not still a danger to Atlantis,” Caldwell persisted, “Do you have any idea what that…woman is capable of, Dr. Weir?” 

“Do you?” Elizabeth raised an imperious eyebrow, “How many guards did you put by her bedside, Colonel?  What weapons did you give them?” 

“Four Marines,” Caldwell grimaced, “I told them to use regular tasers, since the stunners didn’t seem to have much of an effect, but they’ve also got their sidearms.  Dr. Beckett still has her under sedation.” 

“When she decides to wake up,” Elizabeth spoke carefully, “and I’m assuming it will be sooner rather than later, those men won’t be able to stop her.  In fact, if you want them in one piece, I’d suggest you remove them immediately.” 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him,” Carson scowled at Caldwell furiously.

“I’m getting damn tired of getting ignored,” John ripped the wires from his forehead and swung his legs over the side of the bed, “Elizabeth, what the hell is going on?” 

All of them fell silent as the lights above them started flickering and several different voices started yelling from a distant part of the infirmary. 

“Get them out of there,” Elizabeth ordered, “Now.  Before she-” 

All the color drained from Elizabeth’s face when the yelling suddenly stopped.  There was a short silence, then four quick gunshots.  Carson turned to rush out of the infirmary, but stopped when Elizabeth called his name sharply. 

“Carson, wait,” Elizabeth questioned, “D’s weapons, where are they?” 

“In my office,” Carson frowned, “I’ve got to go help, Elizabeth.”  

“Colonel, clear the infirmary of all non-essential personnel and don’t let anyone in uniform come near,” Elizabeth commanded rapidly, “John, go with Carson.  Try to stall her until I get there.  She won’t be seeing you or anyone else here, she’ll be seeing other people in your places – play along and try to keep her calm.  Don’t let anyone threaten her in any way and don’t let her kill anyone.” 

John ran after Carson as Caldwell reached up to tap his earpiece, already giving out Elizabeth’s orders.  John followed Carson quickly through the infirmary, coming around another corner to see four men on the ground, medical staff swarming around each of them.  All four men had been disarmed of their weapons, pieces of three guns scattered over the floor, and each of the men were bleeding from a gunshot wound on their right thighs.  Carson knelt next to the nearest man to help the nurse with his wound. 

“Where did Vaughn go?” John asked quickly. 

“Towards the isolation rooms, sir,” one of the wounded men pulled his headset off and held it out to John, “She’s got Davidson’s sidearm.” 

“Carson?” John slipped the earpiece over his own ear. 

“Nothing life-threatening,” Carson nodded, “I’ve got them.  Go.” 

John took off running in the direction the man had pointed.  He followed the flickering lights through down the corridor until they stopped and he sent an inquiring thought towards the City.  He trailed after the line of crimson-tinged gray that Atlantis laid out for him until it stopped at the open doorway to one of the isolation rooms.  He stepped inside and the door closed behind him as he was jerked harshly to the side.  He was slammed backwards against the wall, hitting his head hard enough to blur his vision for a second, and a small hand tightened around his throat. 

“Jibril?” D blinked rapidly, staring up at John as her hand fell back to her side. 

“Huh?” John watched warily as D’s irises slowly faded back and forth from gray to black.

“You’re alive,” D moved closer, dropping her head against his chest, long burgundy hair curtaining her face as she took unsteady breaths.  She leaned against him for almost a full minute before she whispered, “I saw you go down.  I thought they’d killed you.” 

“I’m fine,” John said cautiously, “Still alive.”   

“You’re such an idiot, Gabe,” D swore as she lifted her head to glare at him, “What the fuck were you thinking?” 

“Uh,” confusion came over John’s face, “I don’t know?” 

“You got me shot, you fucking moron,” D slapped him cruelly across the cheek with her left hand, “You do not engage targets.  You gather the intel and hand it off to me.  If you ever do something so monumentally stupid again, I will kill you myself.  Is that clear?” 

“I’m sorry,” John lifted a hand to rub his cheek, “You didn’t have to slap me so hard.” 

“That’s minor compared to the punishment you’ll receive for disobeying,” D swallowed heavily and her eyes fell shut, “And it’s nothing compared to what he’ll do to me when he finds out I exposed myself on the slim chance I could retrieve you,” D shook her head as she opened her eyes again, still shifting between black and gray, “My right shoulder is heavily damaged and my movement is severely restricted on that side.  The bullet punctured my lung, so I’m having a bit of trouble breathing.  I can run for short distances, but long distances are out of the question.  Take the gun.” 

“Really?” John questioned warily, “Why?”   

“Don’t be dumb, Gabe,” D rolled her eyes and looked down to her right hand, where she held the black nine-millimeter in a loose grip, “I can barely hold on to it.  It’ll do you more good than me.” 

“Okay,” John reached down slowly to take the gun, “If you insist.” 

“They only had four guards on me earlier, but I’m sure there’s more somewhere,” D moved towards the door and it slid open in front of her, “I disabled them to distract the medical staff, but their security will be on alert.  You have eleven shots left – make them count.  By the time we get out of here, Raf should have transport waiting and Mika should have already set charges to blow the building.” 

“You think that’s really necessary?” D turned her back to John and he saw a red stain spreading across the shoulder of her white scrubs as he reached up to tap his earpiece, “Hey, you’re bleeding.” 

“I’ll be fine,” D assured him quietly, “I pulled a couple stitches taking down the guards.” 

“You’re still losing blood,” John pointed out, “We don’t have to go back to the infirmary.  We could just leave.  Or maybe we should stop for a minute.  The damage could be worse than you realize.” 

“No, I know exactly how much damage there is,” D snorted softly, staying close to the wall as she made her way slowly back towards the main part of the infirmary, “Someone performed surgery to repair my internal damage.  Which means they have samples of my blood.  So, yes, it’s extremely necessary that we’re the only ones to walk out of this building alive.  I’ll grab one of the researchers on the way out, take him back with us so we can find out exactly what they know, but everything else gets burnt to ash.  This is strange.  There should be more guards for this type of facility.” 

“No guards is a good thing for us though, right?” John asked evenly, “Less people to stop us from grabbing one of the doctors and leaving.  Less people for me to shoot.”  

“You’ve got to get over this weird aversion to blood, Gabe,” D stopped at the edge of a doorway, cocking her head to the side and closing her eyes, “Through this door, twenty meters on the left is where they were holding me.  It sounds like there’s only four people left in the room.  They must’ve moved the wounded somewhere else.” 

“You can hear that far away?” John wondered curiously. 

“If you block one sense,” D opened her eyes again, a frown creasing her forehead, “the others are heightened.   Yes, I can hear that far if I concentrate.  Someone’s playing music too.  I’ve heard the melody before, but I can’t place it,” D swayed on her feet, “It’s familiar.  I know it.  Why can’t I remember?” 

“Hey,” John reached over to set a hand gently on D’s uninjured shoulder, steadying her as he spoke, “You all right?”

“I’m fine,” D shook her head sharply and shrugged John’s hand off, “Must have lost more blood than I thought.  Let’s do this quickly before Mika decides to cut his losses and blow us up along with the building.” 


End file.
